


Right Here

by pennydreddful



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, mention of FlintHamilton, pwp except its porn with feelings, relatively inexperienced silver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14246823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennydreddful/pseuds/pennydreddful
Summary: for this fandom it is honestly fluff because they're gonna talk about feelings, ladsbut they do fuck about their feelings too, so-set sometime post-Charlestown#AU where either of these people could ever bear to utter affirmations of love as we know them;#AU where Flint keeps the dumb short ponytail because it is a Certified Look and who among us wouldn't pull on it?





	Right Here

Flint awoke all at once like usual but froze to avoid waking Silver. There were a few birds stirring on the sill and early morning light slanted in, warm and promising, on the bed. John had woven them together before resting and so James let himself settle right back into his place against John’s chest, listening to his heart thrum.

 

It was like being at sea, he decided. Always a steady wave, a crashing pulse. The feel of John’s heart let him feel how he did when adrift while on land, and he curled closer. John had started to stir but didn’t yet open his eyes, starting to move his hands over James' back. He traced his spine and thought of the constellation of freckles there, hoping he could devour him again before leaving the bed.

 

James had woken up hard, and Silver wriggled pointedly, pushing his hips upward. His own cock stirring, John tipped James’ chin up with two insistent fingers, shyly slotting their closed mouths together with his fingers hopelessly looking to tangle in all that lovely red.

 

James looked at him and smiled sleepily, going easily when John rolled him onto his back, sliding deftly down his front to come level with his cock. He was ready to take him as deep as his throat would allow, to give his captain joy and show him this kind of devotion, the kind only Silver could ever show and James could only know from him.

 

Silver pulled back, favoring sitting on his right heel. He took in all of Flint somewhat awestruck and started to speak.

 

“I never thought we would get this," he fidgeted with a curl. "I never thought we’d get beyond nearly slitting the other’s throat. I want this, though, and I can’t be a quick pity fuck,” Silver poured out.

 

Flint’s sharp eyes were blown black and he sat up on his elbows, peering up at Silver. “I adore you,” he said simply.

 

“I adore you, and I need you, John,” he continued. There was matter-of-factness there. _Of course, I love you, you absolute fucking fool. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours—_

 

“What does this,” John gestured between their naked bodies, Flint’s cock still proud against his stomach, “mean?”

 

“You know what it is,” Flint tried to move towards him and Silver moved just out of reach.

 

“I want to hear it,” Silver said, eyes unflinching. _Annoying shit._

 

Flint’s mouth twitched where the small dimples impressed his skin with a smile. He wanted to sweep Silver back underneath him and quiet his questioning a million ways, but Silver had that face. It pinned Flint to the wall as always, being revealed this way, and he tried to remember the last time he’d lied to Silver. He couldn’t; enough to justify what he wanted to say more than he liked.

 

“I’d disintegrate without you,” Flint looked confused as he said it, like it was made more real by passing into the air between them.

 

Silver’s stunning face took him in for a moment and swooped down to capture him in a hungrier kiss. Flint felt like a flayed man, and his reserved kiss wasn’t missed.

 

Silver pulled back, hips splayed across Flint’s, ground out, “I love you…I’ve loved you, you stubborn—”

 

One of Flint’s hands tangled in John’s long hair, wrapping the other fully around his wrist to fit in his fist perfectly. Flint wasn’t going to let him go until someone came looking for them.

 

John eyed him despite his restrained line of sight and whimpered loudly when Flint’s hand trailed his chest, his nipple, his ribs, his abdomen, hipbones, inner thighs. His eyes slipped shut he and gave himself over to it happily, mumbling something about James’ inability to just _fucking say it_ , to just do things exactly as John’s superior judgment dictated _for once._

 

“Love,” he started, admiring how it made James flush a bit more under the affection, “I think you’ll need to fuck me, now,” he said. Flint was desperate for it and the dull ache in his own ass made him remember to slick John carefully before starting to work him open. John’s balance wasn’t as good as it used to be, and James compensated with one strong arm around his waist, keeping him close. The soft creak of the bed moving back and forth on the ground wasn’t helped when Silver found purchase at the headboard and began pushing back into James’ hand with fervor.

 

When he’d worked up enough sweat to run down his chest, James leaned forward and tasted the salt, dragging the flat of his tongue from his lower abdomen to collarbones. He admired the way John shook throughout the whole motion, taut chest rising and falling quickly beneath him.

 

“What more could I reveal that you haven’t already divined?” Flint asked, expression unusually soft as he continued to stroke within Silver with a third finger. Silver gasped but settled, feeling that Flint got the vial of oil open and on him without his notice.

 

Silver’s mouth worked like he was considering a response, but he just panted and dug his fingers into Flint’s shoulders.

 

Flint leaned back, pulling Silver on top of him and efficiently slicking himself. The dawn had crept up a bit more, slats of light falling across John’s features. What a long way they were from the radiant, obnoxious man Flint had entered into a precarious arrangement with months earlier. Flint loved how Silver carried himself, and the confidence that was once pure cockiness felt like a stable weight now. He sought it constantly, felt unmoored without it, and finally gave himself permission to feel it fully, to set free shame and guilt in their wake.

 

Flint was momentarily torn between taking him like this, John wreathed in sun with his body trembling from the effort of sitting upright; or on his back, an easier way for Flint to slow his overeager partner down. He couldn't bear to add any more pain to Silver's life, only to give him this mutual intimacy. He had no idea if Silver had even done this before, and he battled his own hummingbird-pulse repeating _Slow, slow, slow,_ to himself. Flint felt painfully close as Silver lined up them up, deciding to give up and be ridden however hard and fast Silver thought was appropriate the moment his head pressed in.

 

Silver’s fingers dropped from the headboard to Flint’s arms, digging tips roughly into the freckled flesh as he took on slow, controlled breaths. Flint felt a pang of terror that perhaps Silver wasn’t ready for it or was bluffing his way through.Silver looked down, reading his expression and dipping to kiss him without sliding further down on his cock.

 

“No, I’m alright,” Silver answered into Flint’s ear. “And no, I haven’t,” he continued, taking Flint inside faster than was likely a good idea.

 

Flint dug into his left hip with the heel of his hand, one hand curled under Silver’s jaw as they kissed, lost in sensation and want and oblivious to anything not touching each other’s skin.

 

“Trust me,” he murmured against Silver’s mouth, holding him firmly in place. Silver breathed out a laugh at the admonition and Flint knocked the bridges of their noses together, far too sweetly for someone who’d been covered in steadily increasing quantities of blood each time he returned to the _Walrus_.

 

Flint felt him relax a bit and progressed, hand spread on John’s lower back to guide him down. He bit his own lip hard enough to bleed; just the first slide all the way in threatened to be all he needed. He felt responsible for making this perfect for Silver, giving him something that would only be remembered as pleasure, as caution rightly exercised.

 

“We haven’t all day,” John protested, pushing himself down, hard until James was sheathed in him. The cracked noise he made was loud enough that anyone awake and moving throughout the village could faintly hear it if they happened past.

 

They started to move together, Flint scared to set a pace. He answered each quiet moan with a firm roll of his hips, slicking his hand again while John’s eyes fell closed.

 

“Fuck,” John whined the second James’ hand began to stroke his sensitive cock. They enacted a rhythm together, minutes passing under Flint’s careful focus and Silver’s open-mouthed panting. When Silver started to slow, Flint expertly flipped them so he could take over completely, covering Silver’s mouth with his own before Silver could assert some misguided pride.

 

Thomas had adored being handled the first time James had done it, performing on full instinct. Thomas had made some navy-related quip and been fucked into a happily wrecked pile beneath James, smiling through messy kisses misaligned by strong thrusts. Flint recalled lying there that afternoon, curled against each other. Thomas told him exactly how it felt to be taken like that, thrown on his back specifically by _him_ , and the explanation resulted in Thomas tossed flat on his desk mid-sentence with James hastily undoing his trousers again only several hours later.

 

Flint considered Silver underneath him, all blue eyes and contented surrender. Silver was not Thomas. It wasn’t a conflict, merely fact. Silver was completely frustrating, charming, impassioned, and vicious. Thomas had been clever and bright and utterly kind. But Silver had found a home in Flint, forged a space for himself where none existed before. He was foundational; where Thomas had loved him exactly as he was, Silver loved him for that and everything he _could_ be, everything he could attain when they were of one mind. Silver’s face had temporarily become primed for argument when they had pulled apart, but Flint wasted no time in pushing his cock back inside of Silver and one of those warm, spreading smiles John rarely let out without an agenda moved across his face as he sighed openly.

 

Flint was powerless against the bliss and trust he saw there, simultaneously gathering both of Silver’s wrists above his head and crashing into him. Flint sucked into the skin of his shoulder, moving up to his neck and bruising the skin over his pulse. Silver fussed a bit at that, bucking his hips upward and wrapping his good leg around Flint’s waist.He couldn’t fathom what Silver needed to hear anymore that he couldn’t feel and told him so between shallow, teasing thrusts of his cock in time with his hand.

 

Silver’s moaning was becoming louder, and James glanced over his shoulder reflexively, a tick originating because of Billy’s poor fucking face when he caught them against Flint’s bookshelf. (At the time, John began to immediately laugh from some combination of nerves and actual mirth and he had to cough and wipe away tears once Flint reacted and gave him space between his hips and books to pull off of his cock.)

 

For a split second, Flint couldn’t be sure if Silver had slapped him, but his mouth met Silver’s as he felt the warm weight of his hand guiding them together and he exhaled.

 

“Don’t make me go find you,” Silver said. “Right here,” he said, both hands on James’ lovely jaw, stroking along it softly. Flint remained where he was held, beginning to thrust again and rolling his eyes at the feeling. James spread his hand across John’s ass and adjusted their angle, causing Silver to shout.

 

Flint froze and asked, “Right there?”

 

Silver puffed out a laugh and Flint returned his crooked smirk, repeating himself.

 

“Right there?” Flint dragged himself nearly to the tip and drove the shaft all the way back in without warning. Silver let out a long, desperate moan.

 

Flint did it again, commanding, “Say it. John, say it.”

 

“Yes, fuck you, yes, right—“ he spilled out, coming into James’ hand with an aching cry. James moved from circling his hips to brush that perfect spot to ragged, shaky thrusts that pulled John along, even more, his orgasm building and expanding. Blunt fingernails dug into the base of James’ skull and he watched John shake through pleasure until he joined him, stilling deep inside while he arced and tensed. When Flint finally cried out it sounded broken and beautiful, and Silver ran his swollen mouth over Flint’s slack one as he eased out.

 

They breathed together for a few moments, John reaching out for a cloth to somewhat clean them before they both reached for each other. With his head against Flint’s chest, he nuzzled against his heartbeat, getting a feigned protest and fingers stroking his hair. Flint passively pressed a kiss to the top of Silver’s head, feeling the heat of his body sink in all along his left side. Everywhere Silver touched seemed to be scorched by him, for better or worse.

 

“Are you—“ Flint started, concerned.

 

“Shh,” Silver stroked a finger over Flint’s mouth. “Weren’t you, when I did the same?”

 

Flint’s eyes widened. Silver related to the act through their reciprocation before processing the novelty of his own new experience. It was dialogue, not personal narrative. Shared. Flint kissed the top of his head again, threading his arms solidly around Silver. For the second time in memory, Flint fell asleep yieldingly, ashore and all. Silver joined him after a long while, inhaling in rhyme with Flint’s even exhales.


End file.
